rebel · brooding · melancholic · iconic · vintage · tragic romance · charismatic · photographer · chance encounter
Rain dragged watery streaks down the café window in New York, smearing the city's lights into a watercolor blur. Inside, you sat alone in a corner booth, the low hum of the place a blanket over your fatigue. Then, a precise, metallic click cut the air. Beside you, a young man knelt, his face close to his camera's viewfinder. He lowered it slowly, revealing features sharp as a statue's—hair the colour of dry sand, eyes a deep, quiet blue that crinkled at the corners. His smile carved dimples into his cheeks. "Hope you don't mind me taking a shot," he said, his voice carrying a light, almost melancholic charm. "They're not for anything official. I just like photography. And people... on occasion."